Followup with Dr Asshole

We waited three and half hours to be told that my tubes are clear and I will ovulate if I lose weight.

When I asked how he could be so sure it was that easy, he just reiterated and added that my PCOS symptoms would also definitely improve.

So much for listening to me when I said my symptoms are the same no matter how much or little I weigh.

Also there’s nothing else he can do for me. How do I keep getting the assholes who tell me that in this teaching hospital with hundreds of doctors not one can do a single thing for me?

I’m going to call the clinic and find out if there’s any chance of me seeing him if I go to their mystery ‘problem’ clinic. If so, they can shove that appointment.


The HSG and Fireworks

I knew there would be problems when I scheduled it. On the phone I was told 730, but on my chart it said 815. I couldn’t get an answer as to which, so we got there at 720.

And sat.

And sat.

After an hour and a half I got registered and was told I’d have to wait until the doctor ordered the test. Apparently that’s not what she did on June 13 when she wrote it on my chart.

After another while, I went to ask if I could schedule my follow up now or if I needed to wait until after the test was done. I could not schedule it at that time, in spite of ‘return two weeks after HSG’ also being on my chart.

Finally I was called to the desk at 930 and told to report to radiology. I wasn’t given any paperwork. All I had was my armband. So radiology sent me back upstairs for a pregnancy test. I got to stand around holding a tube of pee for almost half an hour! But we also got to see what a real positive looks like, and we snagged two of their tests for leaving us alone in the assessment room. That’ll teach em!

Back to radiology, and while we waited there, I got an email about changes to my chart. I thought I was going to have to harm some people, but the website wouldn’t freaking load, so they got a reprieve. I was finally called back.

Ian couldn’t come with me, which sucked because I already had tears welling up from all the crap so far.

But the tech was super nice, and when the OB/GYN came in she was nice, too, until I laughed heartily when she said ‘this is one of the first tests we do when you’re diagnosed with infertility.’ I explained that I’d been asking for an HSG for years, but I think my laughter soured our relationship. Whatevs. The radiologist was even more super nice than the tech, if that was possible.

I put on my mismatched pair of hospital gowns and hopped up on the table, where the radiologist whacked my legs with the shields on the machine. I really wanted the pillow for my butt instead of my head due to the ant bites, but I got a folded up sheet instead.

I scootched around until everybody was happy, and was speculumed without preamble. Thanks! I did get warned that the iodine swab would be cold. The catheter and balloon were no worse than the average pap, and I only felt the dye when she first began injecting it.

By craning my neck around to look at the monitor behind me and to my right, it appeared that my uterus is normally shaped and sized, and I saw dye spill out from both tubes. Unfortunately, I popped a whole lotta ant bites when I rolled to the left, so it was definitely a relief to roll back to the right. They got all their pictures, so after hearing about some nice pasty discharge to look forward to, I got to hop down again.

I must say, the absolute monstrosity of a pad they supplied me with was not the best introduction, as I’ve never used one before in my life. One of Abby’s size 5 diapers would have been smaller and thinner.

The OB/GYN said she’d schedule my follow up since they already had my chart. More on that later.

I practically pranced out, my only concern the gigantic pad, and Ian looked relieved. We went home to see how Abby and Uncle Thomas were making out. Pretty well! She absolutely adores Ian’s brother. We ran him to the bank and the pharmacy, and he offered to buy us lunch at Carl’s Jr since today was their grand opening.

It was so crazy busy. We got there and waited in line for parking, finally got inside and Abby and I snagged a table while the boys waited in line. Halfway through the meal, about two hours after the HSG, the cramping started. I might be able to finish my burger tomorrow, if I’m lucky. We took Thomas home, then home we went and Ian put Abby down at 2 while I went to bed.

I’d taken two Aleve at 7, because I didn’t know how long I’d have to wait and those last me the longest. It was too early for more, and Tylenol doesn’t really do anything for me, so I tried to hold still and tough it out.

Before my first round of Provera, I never had cramps. I was mystified by the girls who missed work or school for that reason. Then I found out, with a vengeance. This was worse. Just one step worse, but worse nonetheless. I had diverticulitis last year, and it felt just like that, only low and central instead of high and left.

I felt better as long as I didn’t move, and that hasn’t changed, although I bloated up quite a bit after Ian left for work at 3. I wasn’t looking forward to when Abby woke up, but hankfully, she slept until 420, and juice and snacks are on the top shelf in the fridge.

At least she’s old enough to understand Mom has a bobo, please don’t jump on her tummy. It probably helped that she couldn’t jump on me yesterday because I felt so crappy from the ant bites.

And I’ll freely admit we watched TV for most of the evening until Ian got home at 8. Snakes and pishies and puppy gogs on Animal Planet. I planted my butt on the couch and only got up twice for a refill and a diaper change. She is such a sweetheart when someone doesn’t feel good. I got so many hugs and kisses, along with a couple elbows
In the gut, but it happens.

Lucky for us, since we bring Abby back there Wednesday noons, the fireworks show was tonight. They set them off a mile from our house, so Ian and I have watched every Fourth and New Year’s eve that they’ve had a show since 2005. So she got to stay up for the 915 fireworks. And yay, she’s not scared of the booms as long as she can’t see them lighting the fireworks!

But it has been a long, long day, and I’m glad to be going to bed now. I hope I can get some sleep and feel more comfortable in the morning.


More Hospital Trouble

After a two hour ordeal last Tuesday afternoon involving lengthy hold times, hangups (guess they got tired of the ringing), and wrong extensions, my HSG is scheduled for Tuesday morning.

Then Wednesday I got an email that I had new information on MyChart. I’m loving that I can access my appointments online and get automatic emails anytime there’s a change, because who knows how long it would have been before I found out that they’re closing the infertility clinic and canceling my appointment. Yeah, the October 5th appointment that should have been last September.

I now have an appointment October 22 at the new ‘problem clinic.’ Serious WTFs going on here. I spent a while going around in circles with the receptionist, who finally gave up on me calming down and transferred me to the same dead end voice mailbox that I’ve left dozens of messages in and never received a callback.

I went to bed and cried for an hour.

Ian made some phone calls, and the office of the RE who abandoned all his patients last year has a couple of new doctors. So it looks like I’m going to be getting a part time job at McDonald’s, because they offer insurance to their hourly employees that covers 82% of infertility treatments, including IVF and medications. Apparently a goodly number of their patients work at McD’s for the insurance. Thanks, nice office lady, for the info!

Such a brief summation, that doesn’t begin to touch on the depression hell I have been trapped in the past few days. Maybe I can write about that later.


Stacking the Deck

I think my body is snickering to itself because it thinks it’s clever. It’s naturally CD1 the day Ian’s going to pick up my Sprintec so I can have a period so I can have my HSG. Well, good on you, body, for having good timing, at least. I can call Monday to schedule my HSG, either for July 3 or 6. I’ll have my follow up two weeks later, so I’ll know whether or not I should get that last refill of letrozole.

I’m still going to take the BCPs this month, for a couple of reasons. One, so I won’t still be bleeding in July, but also to help out a bit next month. My biggest problem is high DHEA with Clomid resistance, so ‘withdrawal fertility’ after BCPs might give me a little kick. We’ll throw in some letrozole and the possibility that an HSG temporarily boosts fertility and the 15 pounds I’ve lost this month and heck, I might have as much as an extra 5% chance of getting pregnant next month!

Okay, I might be deluding myself. But I feel better. Even though we haven’t gotten our recommendation yet, all those nerve-wracking court-ordered cross-examinations are over. That worry isn’t taking over every minute of every day anymore. I can actually think about other things! And think about them without automatically assuming they’ll end up in the toilet.


Another Cool Doctor

Yesterday was the Women’s Clinic consult that my FP requested in January for my six-week bleeding spree.

My appointment was at 1230, but Ian had to drop Abby off at daycare 40 miles away at noon, so I got there around 1115. I was ready for a long wait, but I was only sitting for a few minutes at a time between registration, assessment, and pants removal.

I spent about ten minutes filling the medical student in on my history, then went over it again with the doctor, who was short and sweet and totally awesome. She was appalled that we had to beg for a semenalysis and that I’d never had an HSG, and immediately agreed to order one for me! I so wish she was doing her residency in reproductive endocrinology.

We agreed that I’d take BCP as needed to regulate my cycles until my RE appointment in October. I’ll call to schedule my HSG next CD1…as long as CD12 is on a Friday. Good thing I can pick and choose when to start my period. Then I go back two weeks later for my results.

I was finished by the time Ian made it back to town, before my actual appointment time. It was really good to see someone who listened to me and not have to wait forever, especially after that morning’s awful meeting.

So, looking forward to knowing for sure how the tubes are doing. And fingers crossed the new RE is a little better than the last one.